Page 42 of The Fake Script
She freezes, and I glance to the left to see what caught her eye. A couple of tourists are taking pictures of us with big smiles. I offer a friendly wave, then focus back on Emma.
“Sorry,” I say. “I should have come out with a full disguise.”
She chuckles. “So, that’s a real thing? I always wondered.”
“Oh, yeah.” I nod. “The makeup crew puts me in full prosthetics so I can walk around freely in LA. We’re talking a two-hour makeup session every day. I know it’s a bit crazy, but it’s part of my routine.”
Her jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.”
I press my lips together, trying to contain my smile, but I give in.
She bursts into laughter, then swats me on the shoulder. “You got me for a second.”
“It was too tempting to pass up.” I grin. “I did do the whole prosthetic thing once, though. As a joke for a late-night show. Otherwise, it’s usually just a baseball cap and sunglasses. Not the cleverest disguise, but I get away with it. Especially when Cillian isn’t out with me.”
“Yeah, the 200-pound, six-foot tank guy pretty much screams ‘hot celebrity coming through.’”
I lift my eyebrows, my heart pounding a mile a minute. “Hot?”
A hint of pink colors her cheeks, but she recovers quickly, waving a hand in dismissal. “You know what I meant. Hot as in popular.”
A grin tugs at my lips. I’m pretty sure that’s not what she meant. I guess after all these years, Emma still finds me attractive. “Right.”
She stands on her tiptoes to peerover my shoulder. “I’m not sure a cap and some sunglasses would have done the trick this time, though.”
Turning around, I notice about ten people gathered on the other side of the street, waving their posters and snapping pictures.
I hold back a groan. “Let’s just keep going. The restaurant isn’t far. Once we’re seated, it’ll be fine.”
She nods, letting out a heavy sigh as she takes in the glittering ocean again. “This view is really spectacular.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I say. But I’m not looking at the sunset or the waves anymore. Because Emma is stealing the show. The gentle breeze frees her face from her dark locks, and she has this angelic expression, one I wish I could capture and remember forever.
When she turns around, our gazes cross. I open my mouth to tell her just how beautiful she is, but she’s faster.
“Um, anyway, thanks for bringing me here. I would have never come otherwise.”
“I’m happy I could take you.”I’ll take you to every corner of the world, I want to add, but that might be a little premature. “And that we reconnected. I thought I’d never see you again.”
She swallows, then looks straight ahead. “Me too.”
The crowd across the street has doubled in size and is now matching our pace.
“So, you said you went from librarian to bookseller, right?” I ask, switching the subject to something more mundane so she’ll dare to look me in the eye again.
“Yep. Books have been my whole life.”
“You never considered college? You were the most brilliant student at Kinston High. Hands down.”
She shrugs. “Maybe for a while, but no. I wanted to work, and I loved the library.”
We step onto the crosswalk to reach the heart of town, but the crowd has ballooned in size. Tourists, locals, and paparazzi alike are pressed on the sidewalk, partially blocking traffic.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep going,” I say once we reach the median. “I can’t even see the sidewalk anymore.”
Emma bites her lip, clearly disappointed. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” I groan, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel and eat there.”